


smooth stubble / sharp silks

by Pepper_Poppers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Family, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Other, Post-Canon, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepper_Poppers/pseuds/Pepper_Poppers
Summary: It was during the long marches with their troops that Byleth had first caught sight of the scruff. The sparse hairs would crop up often during their travels, straying from the defined lines of hair against his jaw. Falling outside those dashes of short hair that framed his face, they suggested the potential of something fuller fighting to come through.Byleth couldn’t help but ask the question that had been burning in the back of their mind for some time now.“Have you ever thought about growing your beard out?”---Following the evolution of the slickest beard lineup to be found on either side of Fódlan’s Throat, from a late night in wartime to the day Byleth prepares to join the Almyran court.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52
Collections: The Golden Gifts - Claudeleth Fic/Art Exchange





	smooth stubble / sharp silks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celicalms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celicalms/gifts).



> My fic for #TheGoldenGifts exchange! Written for the prompts of desi beard lineup Claude and brown Byleth in South Asian attire, based on the wonderful designs of @celicalms on Twitter!

They had been reviewing strategy maps for so long now, it had to be nearing dawn. Papers seemed to cover every available surface, and it felt like their progress was slowing as the hours dragged on. Rubbing at their eyes to keep awake, Byleth glanced over to see how Claude was holding up, and that’s when they saw them: sharp little bristles that dusted his face, making soft sounds as he lightly scratched at his chin in exhaustion. 

It was during the long marches with their troops that Byleth had first caught sight of the scruff. The sparse hairs would crop up often during their travels, straying from the defined lines of hair against his jaw. Falling outside those dashes of short hair that framed his face, they suggested the potential of something fuller fighting to come through. 

Byleth couldn’t help but ask the question that had been burning in the back of their mind for some time now. 

“Have you ever thought about growing your beard out?”

Claude looks over at them, eyebrows knit together in confusion at the sudden question. His eyebrows… they had thinned a significant amount over those missed years, hadn’t they? What used to be sturdy brows had been delicately sculpted into narrower arches. 

Byleth began to feel like they were taking a really good look at him for the first time since they’d returned. There had been so much change to adjust to, only now were they picking up on all of the fine details they’d missed back when they were struggling to take it all in. 

His eyebrows were plucked thin, and the two sides of his beard were always kept from connecting. The hair that _was_ allowed to grow through was neatly trimmed short on a regular basis. _His hair holds a strategy of its own_ , Byleth registers, _it plays the part of a rugged cut when in truth, the entire look is carefully manicured... Why?_

“Why do you ask?” Not an answer, but Byleth supposes their question warrants some context.

“I just think it might suit you,” they said, “Maybe it’s something to try out?”

Claude gives a tired chuckle to the idea before turning back to the charts in front of them. “My friend, you suggest it as if I can just slap one on. That sort of thing takes time, the upkeep alone would be a lot to manage.”

“Would it really be more than you already have to do?”

The look left on Claude’s face by their remark was nearly inscrutable, and as the seconds passed without a response from him, Byleth had a feeling their question had challenged something he struggled to put words to. Instead of putting him through the trouble of formulating a response, Byleth decided to show him some mercy by replacing the question.

“Why keep it reined in to just the edges when you could do more with it, you know?” Byleth asks, sweeping a finger through the air in a movement meant to echo the arc of his existing beard. “I think it would look nice.” 

_Had they really needed to add that last part?_

The crease between Claude’s eyebrows remain as an uncomfortable pause forms between them. Close as they are, Byleth has a feeling they’ve somehow still managed to overstep.

Right as they began to feel some regret for bringing up the topic- _This wasn’t a good enough reason to go back a few minutes, was it?_ \- Claude breaks the silence. 

“You think so?” 

Byleth gives a nod of assurance, one that seems to smooth out Claude’s face a bit. 

“I think… I think I would like to,” he discloses, “At some point.” Byleth lets a small smile form at the admission, watching as Claude gives a tired stretch before speaking up again. “We should call it a night.”

“You don’t want to power through this?” If the two of them just kept at it for just a few more hours, their plans could be airtight days ahead of schedule. 

“My friend, if we stay up any longer, I’m afraid I’ll have that beard before this gets finished. We’ve long since earned some rest.”  
  


***

It’s only a few weeks later when Byleth notices the smooth skin of his face being replaced with unruly, bristly stubble in the early stages of growth, the hairs finding some balance as they continue to fill out. As the soft, scruffy lines of his beard extend from their previous boundaries, the fuller beard is groomed with confident, sharp edges shaped on the line of his cheeks.

The style was precisely sculpted to bring out all the best features of his face, and Byleth thinks it makes Claude look utterly sophisticated. 

  
***  
  


He hadn’t wanted to read too much into their conversation that night, he really hadn’t, but that one casual talk had reassured him of so much. Byleth… Byleth really saw him, even when he wasn’t trying to be seen. Through even the most inconsequential things, they would stay firmly on his side, offering him their support. 

Leaning into the beard might have been one of the easiest decisions Byleth had helped him to reach. But now, with the conflict in Fódlan put to rest, came a more difficult one… making his return home without them. 

There were happy tears when he arrived, some of the first he could remember, as he was pulled into the embrace of his siblings. It had been much too long since he had heard the call of “brother”, it sounded so different than he remembered, and the years gone by were visible between them. Even with so much catching up to do, there wasn't a need for words as they crushed the air out of one another with fierce hugs that did their speaking for them.

And when his mother approaches him, gently placing a hand on the side of his face, he anticipates her saying something sappy- _You’ve changed so much, my son_ or _Finally, you’ve made your way back home to us_ , but when she finally speaks, Khalid is instead told “ _We’ll need to get you some of your father’s tel_ ,” and given a warm smile and a pat on the side of his cheek before she moves to make room for the others welcoming him home. 

Word of his accomplishments had reached across the mountains by the time of his arrival, and though Khalid thought winning the war had been a massive feat, a greater feeling of victory washed over him as he found himself immersed in the celebrations of the crowds. 

Khalid had expected some observance of his return to take place, more as a formality than anything else, but he hadn’t expected to be greeted like this, to feel such a deep feeling of _home_ . He’d worked it into his head that he would need to struggle all over again, and for all the hardship of the war effort, how could he have imagined _this_ awaiting him after? 

That evening, as he was pulled into the festivities, drawn into familiar dance and prepared to eat his way into the longest nap of his life, he found the only thing missing was Byleth, the one he’d promised his hand to, at his side. To be able to pull them into one more dance, feast themselves too full together, to have his family finally meet them… 

They would be together again soon, he would make sure of it.

***

Sitting in the garden pavilion with Khalid, the air around them carried the sweet scent of oleander and flowering palms. Byleth could appreciate how the herbs and flowers filling the abundant gardens around them had all been carefully chosen to create such a unique aroma. When Byleth closed their eyes, the smell elicited old memories of times spent tending the plants of the monastery greenhouse. 

Then there were the surrounding sandalwood, cypress, and broad camphor trees. They had been newly introduced, their freshly worked soil stirring thoughts of travelling through heavy woods alongside their father’s company. Stone watercourses channeled the running streams around them, the soothing sounds of the rushing water drawing Byleth’s mind to idle days they could spend just fishing. 

It was exactly the mental cleansing Byleth needed after so many months spent navigating and repairing the post-war political hellscape that was Fódlan, so much so that Byleth could almost forget that there was work to be done here, too... they had only gone from one political capital to another, after all. The tranquility of the garden couldn’t slow the torturous crawl toward that evening, but the restful atmosphere did allow the pressure to easily slip from mind. If Byleth could, they would spend all day here. 

The only thing more serene than the lush gardens around them, Byleth thought, was the sight of Khalid still excitedly talking about… something. They had long since lost track of the conversation in their contemplation, and while Byleth had a feeling their lover already knew their attention had long since been stolen away by the restful atmosphere, they appreciated that he hadn’t gone ahead and called them out on it.

Trying to rein their attention back into the conversation, Byleth is instead drawn to the way the light hits the fine gold threads woven into Khalid’s sleeves. Their partner looks more than comfortable in his light kurta and loose salwar, and the threads on his sleeves- _there they went again, catching the sun whenever he moved his hands about as he spoke_ \- compliment the garment’s earthy shade where they create delicate patterns on the cuffs. 

_He would definitely have my attention right now_ , Byleth thought, _if he hadn’t ditched his old gloves._

Abandoning the effort to guide their focus back to the discussion, Byleth finds it a challenge to keep from getting lost in the excitement in Khalid’s eyes as he speaks animatedly about whatever topic has caught his interest. Byleth knows he will have to leave soon, albeit for a short time, to address the visiting diplomats who will be joining for the evening’s events, so Byleth allows themself to fall into just watching Khalid as he talks, enjoying his company. 

_His hair looks nice_ , Byleth thinks. He would often tie it up since it had gained some length, but Byleth thought it looked charming on days like this one, when instead of styling it out of the way, he would leave it to fall freely wherever it wanted.

It was a relaxed look that created a nice contrast with the clean, carefully maintained edges of his beard. Khalid had certainly polished the look over their months apart, and it seems so naturally _him_. 

It was just like him, Byleth figures, to take something that took such thoughtful effort and maintenance and make it look like he hadn’t even needed to try. 

Without much thought, Byleth reaches out a hand to cup the side of his face, stroking their thumb over the soft, shiny hair. The action comes with the consequence of bringing his speech to a halt, though in Byleth’s opinion, this is a worthwhile trade to see him so easily taken by surprise.

“Am I going to have to ask that same old question about my face?” Khalid asks, leaning into their touch. Byleth gives a satisfied hum in place of a response, continuing to trail over the well-defined line of his beard.

“Has it gotten to be too much?” Khalid asks them, placing a hand over where Byleth’s rests. “You can be honest if you don’t like it.”

“Not at all, it suits you,” Byleth reassures, “You look handsome.”

Byleth can’t be more thankful that the lines of his beard don’t rise high enough to conceal the flush of his cheeks. 

He presses his lips to the palm of their hand before twinning their fingers together and letting their hands swing downward. “Are you looking forward to later today?” Khalid asks them. 

Later today- the gathering that would serve as Byleth’s formal introduction to the Almyran court. In truth, Byleth was having trouble looking forward to the event. 

Really, today shouldn’t be so different from the many times they’ve had to address the various nobility in Fódlan. This time, however, they’re finding themself gripped by some measure of uncertainty. Sure, an audience of dignitaries and advisors was nothing Byleth hadn’t dealt with before, but today’s crowd would also be made up of Khalid’s family, and the pressure of making a good first impression was becoming more agonizing as time ushered the event closer. 

“I can’t say I’m looking forward to putting my Fódlan robes back on,” Byleth sighs out. It’s not a direct answer to his question, but it is truthful, at least. The ruler’s garments they had been expected to wear for the past few months were of a similar style to the traditional archbishop's robes, and Byleth had long since grown tired of them. 

Byleth appreciates every opportunity that comes their way to wear something else, and now is no different. Given the formal nature of this evening’s event, they would eventually have to change out of the breathable material of the salwar kameez they’d spent the day comfortably lounging in, and Byleth already feels like lamenting over the impending change of clothes. 

“Then don’t wear them,” Khalid states plainly.

“I don’t have anything else presentable for the court.” Had he really thought the solution would be so simple? 

Next to them, Khalid gives a thoughtful hum. Byleth sees an amused look of mischief play behind his eyes and a self-satisfied smirk take hold, one he gets whenever his plans fall perfectly into place and he doesn’t mind if others know it. 

“I think I might be able to help with that problem.” Khalid reaches next to him, picking up a neatly wrapped bundle of cloth that has been tied closed with colorful twine. Byleth is confused… as he carried it with them earlier, Khalid claimed it was something that would be needed for the court later in the day. Yet here it was, being presented to them. 

“Go ahead, open it.”

Picking up the cloth bundle, the wrapped material shifts in Byleth’s hands. A part of one side feels tougher than the other, creating an uneven weight on the edge that threatens to slump out of their grasp. When Byleth looks up at Khalid in question, he looks like an impatient kid as he gives them an encouraging nod.

Byleth doesn’t bother to tease Khalid by keeping him waiting in suspense. Drawing the string away, they spread open the cloth to reveal a stack of deep blue fabric folded inside. 

Pulling the richly dyed material out, they find in their hands a midnight blue kameez that has been lined with gold embroidery. Fitted above the waist and flared below it, the kameez looks like it would reach near floor-length when worn. 

Tucked into the side of the cloth wrap are matching churidar and a pair of dark leather flats, intricately designed with lustrous thread to match the outfit. They had yet to be broken in, but the shoes are a welcome change from their regular heeled boots, and well-suited for the rest of the outfit.

A final piece of material remains within the cloth wrap, something that had been caringly folded underneath the rest of the fabric. Setting the garments in their hands down, Byleth lifts out the new measure of light fabric: an embellished dupatta. Throwing the length of the dupatta over their forearm to examine the detail, Byleth finds a pattern reminiscent of a starlit sky come to rest against their dark brown skin. 

Byleth looks up at Khalid and finds their favorite smile on his face, one that is unhindered and knows no trouble. It was one of his candid smiles that let soft creases form at his eyes where there had been none before, and Byleth adores seeing it every time it surfaces.

“It’s beautiful… Thank you, Khalid.” The words don’t feel adequate enough, but Byleth has a feeling that the look on his face was made present by a mirroring of their own. 

His smile only widens at their response. “If you’d like some jewelry with it, I’m sure one of my sisters wouldn’t mind letting you borrow something.” It’s a thoughtful offer for him to make, but Byleth has something in mind. 

“I’ve got something on hand, actually,” they reply. “What will you be wearing? Surely Almyra’s newly-crowned king won’t be addressing his court in a plain kurta.”

The very idea draws a laugh out of him. “I don’t think I could get away with that just yet, my love. Besides, where would the fun be in letting you show me up so easily?” he adds with a wink. He leads them both to stand, pulling Byleth into a deep kiss that they can’t help but start to smile against. It can’t last long enough before it has to be broken. 

“I’ll meet you outside of the reception halls later,” Khalid tells them with a gentle smile, “I’ll see you soon.” 

As much as they don’t want him to have to go, Byleth knows having the next few hours to themself is likely for the best. They would have ample time to get changed, wander the grounds, and most importantly... quell their worries. 

  
***  
  


Years ago, on the days when Khalid would allow himself to get lost in the whimsy of impossible thoughts, he would imagine bringing Byleth here. There was a time when that wish seemed like such an impractical, far away thing, a selfish want that might never converge with all that he planned to undertake. Now, he could only feel so lucky to have finally made it here with them. 

As he walks leisurely toward the spot where they had agreed to meet, Khalid takes in the sight of his partner. They’ve pulled their light hair back into an imperfect braid, but they wear it artfully. Byleth’s chosen to style their dupatta across the chest, one end resting over their shoulder and the other end pulled around behind them, the remaining trail left to rest over their arm. 

_They’re absolutely breathtaking_ , he thinks. 

Even so, he finds their gaze is turned toward the polished stone tile of the floor, and catches a tension in Byleth’s shoulders, their posture kept just a little too exact. He’s not entirely sure what to make of it, but it’s a stance that would suggest nervousness in anyone else. 

His concern is pushed aside when Byleth looks up and meets his eyes, their distant look replaced with a soft smile at the sight of him. Khalid thinks the Almyran sun has managed to bring out a new warmth in their smile, but he knows that perhaps it’s just him, positively enamored with Byleth now that they’re back together. 

He watches as their expression evolves from contentment to astonishment as they catch sight of what he's wearing. 

Over his kurta, Khalid wears a beige sherwani that has been fitted to him perfectly. On top of the brocaded coat he’s added a shawl of his own, a solid fawn piece with goldwork along its blue border, left to fall freely from where it’s been elegantly draped on one of his shoulders. 

“Decent enough for the court?” Khalid asks, giving a playful spin as he makes his way toward them. 

“I believe so,” Byleth responds, reaching to touch the fabric that rests on his shoulder, a movement that allows Khalid to catch a glimpse of something on their wrist. It’s something he hasn’t seen in quite some time, a gold bracelet ornated with the head of a deer, the antlers wrapping around their wrist to create the cuff. It’s been taken good care of, displaying the same shine as when he’d gifted it to them all those years ago. 

He looks back up to meet Byleth’s gaze, giving them a knowing smile. _Of course they kept it with them_. 

“Ready?” he asks Byleth, offering an arm. They give a nod as they accept, a gesture that Khalid takes as the okay to begin making their way over. Soon after they start to walk, however, Byleth stops in place. Their arm quickly slides away, allowing their hand to catch his wrist, and Khalid finds himself being pulled back. 

“Byleth?”

“Just a moment.” Their voice betrays them, the neutral tone they were aiming for warping into one of uncertainty. 

Hesitation, Khalid knows, certainly isn’t something familiar for Byleth. They’ve always been one to act quickly and hold their ground, so seeing them so noticeably stalled… Khalid can tell something is not alright, and there’s no way he’d feel comfortable dancing around the issue. 

“Something on your mind?” 

Byleth’s struggle to find the right words is clear. “So much has changed,” they settle on.

“What exactly do you mean?” Khalid asks. Whatever troubles them, he wants to know just what it is.

“Not long ago, if you asked me about my future, I would have imagined something entirely different for myself,” they start, “Travelling to find work, maybe stopping at the occasional tavern for a game of cards. What I’m doing now, it doesn’t come as easily to me.”

“Some days, I feel like I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m doing,” Byleth continues, “I suppose what I’m saying is… tonight, what if I don’t meet their expectations?”

The question hangs there, Byleth’s worry put to words. “What if they aren't receptive to me?”

Khalid could never have fathomed, of all things, a first impression being something Byleth would worry about. They so often won people over without effort, but right now, the idea of failing to do so was overtaking them. And if that was anything he could fix, well, Khalid would do all he could. 

“Byleth,” he starts, taking their hands into his own, raising them to his chest, “You’re an accomplished leader. You were for our old class, for our troops, and now an entire country.” 

_They’re more than capable_ , he thinks. “You’re brilliant,” Khalid reassures them, “and when we enter that room, do you know what the people will see?”

Byleth shakes their head, not yet at ease. 

“Many will see a new ruler, one who will help to bring about a new era between our countries,” Khalid continues, “Someone incredibly wise, who has demonstrated immense strength of spirit, time and time again.” 

There was no one else Khalid could imagine having by his side to mend the world together. 

With them, he wasn’t lonely in his dream. 

“And the others?” Byleth ventures.

Khalid can’t help but grin as he gives their hands a comforting grasp. “Will be in-laws who are going to love you no matter what.” 

Byleth laughs at that, blinking a few held-back tears out, and Khalid is joyed to see the uneasiness begin to leave their face. 

Time to drive it out entirely. “Seriously, Byleth, they haven’t shut up about wanting to meet you! Any longer and they would have begun making plans to come to you instead.”

Byleth beams at him now, all weariness absent, and Khalid’s filled with love at the sight of them. “I think I’m ready,” Byleth says, their usual poise returning to them.

“You sure?” He checks, not wanting to press them if they still lack any assurance, but Byleth gives him a certain nod. 

“I’ll have you there with me. We’ve always been at our best when we’re together.” They make the statement so genuinely, and he supposes it’s a fact that's been proven many times over. 

Offering an arm to them once again, he couldn’t agree more. 

**Author's Note:**

> enby!Byleth could easily replace oxygen for me, [I'm on Twitter](https://twitter.com/Pepper_Poppers) if you agree


End file.
